


Text Me You Love Me

by Siriuslyscarredforlife



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriuslyscarredforlife/pseuds/Siriuslyscarredforlife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he flicks open his phone, he always expects to see the glare of his cell projecting a [new message] icon into his awaiting amber eyes. But it's been six months and, god help him, but he needed Haruhi to message right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Text Me You Love Me

When Haruhi left Ouran to go to America for six months, Hikaru stood at the back of the leaving party and allowed Kaoru and Tono to nudge him away for elbow space. In the end, he was only able to see the crown of Haruhi's brunette hair over Huni's shoulder, and he told himself that it was okay. 

The first time Hikaru picked up the phone to text Haruhi was a day after she had left. The sun was streaming through the open curtains and Kaoru was in the shower. He was butt-naked and had the elephant head between his crossed legs. Snickering to himself at successfully being able to scare the new maid that day, he had reached for his cell, already flipping it open, and had tapped the second contact on the screen, with mindless expertise, when he paused in the middle of typing his usual greeting. 

Feeling like he had just been clubbed over the head with a book, he looked over the half-completed text message and abruptly decided that he should join Kaoru in the shower. He stumbled away from the king-sized bed and almost tripped when a loose sheet hooked around his flailing leg and he tried to erase the fact that his texting buddy was now gone for six months and he should really find a way to stop this habit soon.

'Ohayo gozaimasu, Haruhi! --'

The second time Hikaru tried to text Haruhi, it was during break that same day. Bored, he was seated on the table top, with crossed legs and an arm propping his head up on top of them, and he felt like the only thing that could make his apathetic molten honey-eyed glare lighten was seeing Kaoru or Haruhi. He allowed a devilish smile to flash upon his face, like a mask at one's hand, when Kaoru glanced over in the midst of entertaining some of their moe fans that day, to match his twin's one, but it slipped away just as quickly. Before he even knew it, his gaze was directed downwards and he was palming his cell in his free hand while shifting his whole person to eagerly hunch over it expectantly, decorum lost. And again, he stopped, not even able to complete one emoji, when he remembered himself. 

He just barely stopped himself from releasing a wounded whine as he jerkily pressed the off button on his phone, deposited it carelessly in his open bag on the seat and gracefully dismounted his pedestal. His soul felt heavy as he navigated his way to Kaoru's side. And while the presence of his twin, pressed to his side in the midst of another impromptu show for their fans, smoothened the jagged edges of hurt a bit in his heart, he allowed Kaoru to start the dialogue for once. He felt Kaoru tilt his head upwards with a finger tapping his chin and responded to the protective, "Kaoru," with a vulnerable, "Hikaru."

'Haruu~hi! ＼(^o --'

The third time was during Host Club itself. The third text was not a text done in his subconsciousness. Even though, as he held his phone up to his chest like a precious secret, it felt as natural to him as breathing. Kaoru had gone to the toilet for the time being and the ladies were being left by themselves as Hikaru too had slipped away.  
They had tittered and giggled and Hikaru would feel have guilty for not upholding his hostly duties, but they had come for Hikaru-and-Kaoru. For the two little devils. Not just Hikaru, the one who needed Kaoru to know who he was. Like he did when these things usually happened, his foot had already been a step forward, towards the natural type's table. If it had been any other day, Hikaru would have approached the brunette's table, hands hitched in pockets, sauntering leisurely and a ready smirk poised on his lips. But it wasn't. And he had prematurely stumbled when he had tripped on his second step at the sight of the empty circle of sofas opposite of theirs.  
He had turned away, blushing in mortification, and he bit his bottom lip.  
Now, leaning against a pillar a distance away from his table where Kaoru had yet to arrive, he continued staring at the blank screen of his phone in a deadened way and felt his fingers slowly regain feeling as he cautiously guided them through the motions of tapping on keys. The completed message felt like an arrow to his heart and, biting back the warm tears that had welled up at the corner of his amber eyes, he deleted the message and turned away. He glanced around Music Room #3 underneath the cover of his ginger fringe, hooded and guarded in a way it wasn't a day ago, and took in the muted atmosphere of the Host Club. He gritted his teeth until he heard them ground, and his hands fisted.

"Baka," he whispered to himself and, disgustedly, he felt a tear rebelliously warm a path over his cheeks, to his chin. He angrily swiped at the liquid with his blazer and stomped back to where Kaoru had arrived.

'Ohayo, Haruhi. ... How is America? ... I miss you.'

("Hikaru... Please...  
"Nai."  
"She's only gone for six months, you know. She'll come ba --"  
"Nai."  
Hands moved mechanically to situate the blaring headphones over his ears, before they returned to the games in front of him, drowning out Kaoru's pleas) 

The fourth time he texted Haruhi, he wasn't really texting her. He was thinking of texting her, formulating a message in his head in the desperate, automatic way that he hated but couldn't help. Kaoru stood beside him as he took in the sushi on the table and the fatty tuna. His eyes met Kaoru's as their heads swiveled towards each other and he could also see the instantaneous thoughts that appeared in Kaoru's similar-colored gaze.  
He typed out the message in his head, slowly yet certainly, even though physically, his hands were folded loosely underneath the table and his phone was in his pocket.

'Haruhi! We have fatty tuna... Come back?'

In honor of Haruhi, their gluttonous scholarship student, Kaoru and he piled their plates up with stacks of otoro solemnly and not even the chairman's strange look or Kyoya's grim expression across the table derailed them from their actions.

("Nai! Don't sit there!"  
"Why -- Ugh, hey man! What are you doing?"  
Like an enraged animal, Hikaru had coolly positioned himself so he was leaning against the desktop table to his right and Kaoru had mirrored his actions on the table's left side. He glared at the newcomer who had just been about to sit at what had been Fujioka Haruhi's table three months ago and he hoped his burning bright-eyed glare translated his feelings strongly enough.  
"Sit somewhere else.")

("Domo, may I buy that mechanical pencil?"  
"Huh? This old thing? It's half a year old--"  
"Hai. May I buy it from you? I'll pay you $50."  
"WHA-? I only bought it from the Host Club's website for $10--!"  
"$70."  
"... Hai.")

(In the end, he writes thousands of texts and sends them with reckless abandon anyway. 

'Ohayo, Haruhi! Today, the Host Club went to the beach again. It was almost perfect. But you weren't there...'

'Ohayo, Haruhi! Kasanoda Ritsu came to the Music Room today. He was looking for you to--'

'Ohayo Haruhi. Tono broke down today and wouldn't stop crying when he saw a young girl with brown eyes and short hair walk past him today in a purple jacket...'

'Ohayo Haruhi. Kyoya tells me that Ranka-san and he talk more often now. He told me that Ranka-San misses you too.'

'Ohayo, Haruhi. I wish you hadn't gone on that stupid business course.'

'Ohayo, Haruhi. Kaoru borrowed your mechanical pencil from me yesterday and didn't return it until this morning.'

'Ohayo --'

'Ohayo, Haruhi. I... I cried too yesterday. I feel stupid because I told Tono to stop crying over your absence. But I did it too. Haruhi, I hate--'

'Ohayo, Haruhi. I love--'

'We miss you.'

'When are you coming back?')

It is six months later, standing at the entrance of the arrival hall of the airport in Japan that Hikaru's heart starts beating again (after stopping five months and one day ago). He's dressed in the clothes that he wore on that day, a year ago, when he and Haruhi went on that almost-failed date, and his heartbeat is thrumming in his throat. Kaoru is at his right-hand side, dressed in pairing clothes, eyes vulnerable. Tono, who is perhaps the third most affected, next to he and Kaoru, is wearing a cream-colored cashmere sweater and has a hopeful air to him. His violet eyes aren't red, for once as well.  
Huni is on Mori's shoulders to Kaoru's right. He's their look-out, he claims, but Hikaru knows that Huni-senpai needs someone for support right now too and, in return, he grounds Mori-senpai as well.  
Kyoya is a stoic statue to Tono's left. He's stone-cold, because Haruhi hasn't been there to thaw him and Tono has just been too dim to warm him up since her absence.  
Ranka-San isn't there because he had flown ahead to meet Haruhi in Santiago himself and was on the plane with his daughter, but he had also looked as haggard as them all the last he had seen of him.  
Hikaru hopes that Haruhi knows how much she means to them because, looking at them all right now, he thinks they all look pathetic with her missing. (Honestly, with any one of them missing; They are a family, after all.)

The pressure of the six months comes tumbling down, when a head of brown comes into view. Hikaru doesn't even need Huni's excited shout to warn him as he vibrates on the spot and it takes all he has and more not to sprint towards her as she appears distinctly from the crowd. It's like a dream, the way her eyes are so brown (so warm), how her lips are pursed in that stoic way that they drive them crazy (but they all love), the way she's right there and she hasn't changed a bit, while he feels that they all have.  
Grasping blindly at something to his right, he feels some of the utter chaos in his stomach dissipate when Kaoru's hand catches his flailing one securely, grounding him, providing him with an anchor and he, too, providing him with one. His eyes feel wet.

"Tamaki-senpai, Kyoya-senpai, Mori-senpai, Huni-senpai, Hikaru, Kaoru..." The moment she stops in front of them, they have surrounded her, and Hikaru notes that Ranka-San has kindly taken a backwards step out of the tight circle even when Kyoya gestures for him to join in. It's an inconsequential thing buzzing in the corner of his mind, though, because he's more preoccupied with the sound of Haruhi's voice finally saying his name again, after all these months. He almost starts bawling when Haruhi then smiles- A tender thing that looks hesitant and vulnerable, and Hikaru has confirmation that their desperation was felt by Haruhi, too. 

"I missed all of you."

Before Tono can take more than a few steps towards Haruhi, in a poised tackled, Hikaru had already stepped forward and engulfed her in a hug.  
Her brown hair gets in his nose, longer than before and he's sure that his own ginger hair is making her eyes itch, but he doesn't care because this is the closest he's been to Haruhi and just... HaruhiHaruhiHaruhiHaruhi. He draws back and makes sure to look deep into those eyes and he feels his eyes blur.

"Haruhi!" He laughs loudly, a touch bit madly, but there's a teary gurgle to his words. Respectfully, Tono, Kaoru and the rest of the Host Club have frozen behind him at his actions and he thanks everyone in the world that they are his friends. He fiercely rubs at his stinging eyes. "Haruhi."

He's calmed down enough that he can finally register that Haruhi's arms are around his neck as well and she looks, surprisingly, expectant.

Her chocolate brown eyes seem to glow warmly as Hikaru rests his forehead against hers and it should be weird. But it feels like the right-est things in the world, right up there with being by Kaoru's side.

They lock eyes.

"Fujioka Haruhi," he can feel himself saying," I've known you for two years. You've changed my world more than you can imagine. You're as precious to me as Kaoru. When you weren't with me, with us, these past six months, you took the colors of my world with you. Please don't do that again." Here, he takes a deep breath because his throat was closing up on him and his eyes were continuously streaming with urgent tears now as he remembered the half year's grimness. "I don't want you to leave me ever, Haruhi. Please. Stay with me, with us. I love you."

His painful sobs are cut off mid-inhale by a pair of chapped lips on his, and through red, tear-blurred eyes, he squints and sees the tender look in Haruhi's eyes when she pulls back. She has taken out a handkerchief and he feels the soft cloth stifling his uncontrollable flow of tears. "Ha-" he hiccups and he squints even more, "Haruhi?"

"Aho," she chides gently," I love you too.”

Tono tackles Haruhi into a hug from behind before Hikaru can respond, disentangling her from him and the soft moment is broken as she exclaims, as ferocious as a irritated cat now, and he buries his head against her neck and wails about how much he had missed her.  
Huni passes Hikaru right after. He grabs onto one of Haruhi's flailing arms and glistening tears, like Hikaru's, are pouring like waterfalls from his clenched eyes.  
Mori takes the opportunity to reach over him to ruffle her hair.  
Kaoru releases a sound that sounds like a cross between a sob and a laugh and charges past Hikaru too as he hugs her tightly around the neck, arm hooked and looking like he would never let go.  
Kyoya, Mr. Tsundere, merely takes her luggage from where it lays abandoned after his best friend had tackled it's owner and it's a statement in itself that there's a small, relieved smile lurking beneath his apathy.

Hikaru is left still standing stunned in the dust of the Host club's impromptu dog pile and there's a happy feeling exploding in his chest. He feels a hand land on his shoulder and he looks up, still in the hazy high that Haruhi had put him in, but it is slightly stilted when he meets Ranka-san's eyes. 

They look hard yet resigned. Hikaru thinks he looks like a man who's lost something dear to him. "She got your texts on the plane," he tells him, expression solemn. A terrified pang in his gut dispels the happiness for a second. 

She got his texts? ... Oh. 

"And what was her reaction?" His question is careful. Ranka-san releases his shoulder from an almost painful grip and his gaze drifts as he looks to the side, afar-seeing as though reminscing something that left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

"Surprised," he finally tells him shrewd-eyed," And happy."

"Oh."

There's a beat of silence between them and then Ranka-San pins him down with his eyes again. They are still sad but no longer as hard. "Don't hurt her, alright?" He enunciates seriously," Never hurt her."

“Never.”

He swivels his head and catches Haruhi's eyes over Mori's shoulder, where she was now being lifted into his arms, probably due to him rescuing her from Tono, and his heart skips a beat when he sees a small and grudging smile. Then, a furrow between her eyebrows develop and she mimics taking something from her pocket and speaking into the object from where she mimes it next to her ear.

His... Phone?

Slowly, he took out his cell.

[1 new text message received]  
From: Haruhi <3  
I love you.

The three thousandth and fifth time he sends a text to Haruhi, his long fingers are flying over the keyboard, and there's a manically happy gleam in his shining amber eyes. A wide grin has only just started to tug his lips upward as he pressed the send button confidently. 

'I love you too ＼(^o^)／'

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Please give kudos, and leave a comment to tell me what you liked the best of the story!


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